


want you all the time

by childrenbehave



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childrenbehave/pseuds/childrenbehave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liams meet. Liams hit it off. Louis isn’t a fan of this. And it’s all Miley Cyrus’s fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	want you all the time

It’s all Miley Cyrus’s fault. And that’s not a sentence Louis ever thought he’d say, but really, did she have to be at the same event as them and did she have to bring her ridiculously fit and lovely fiancé _also_ named Liam? 

Well, probably, considering how bloody _together_ they are and when you have a fit Liam as an automatic date you bring him. Not that Louis has ever had a thought like that. Maybe once, but _only once_. (Twice.)

More importantly: did she have to sidle up to _their_ Liam and be so bloody sweet and charming backstage, so charming that Liam ended up smiling at her all crinkly? 

Probably not, but that’s what happening. 

Louis just _happened_ on the exchange as he was looking for Liam - they were performing in ten - and caught sight of them by one of the green room doors. Louis slows down, because jumping on Liam is fine. Jumping on Liam while he was talking to someone considerably more famous and successful than them... well, Louis would at least like to try and, you know, not horribly embarrass them. Not at first at least.

‘My Liam loves surfing!’ Miley is saying, grinning up at Liam. While they’ve not been properly introduced Louis can’t very well not know who Miley Cyrus is; he’s got sisters, and oh, he should see about an autograph for Fizz, she was very into Hannah Montana. 

‘Yeah, I’ve only gone a few times, but it’s wicked, I mean,’ he cringes because Liam always tries to be mindful of the difference in slang when they’re in America. Louis smiles from where he’s not exactly eavesdropping. 

Miley only keeps grinning, waving her hand, ‘Don’t worry, I got it, remember, I’ve got one of you too,’ she pauses, scrunches up her face, ‘well, kind of. Australia. Same slang, different land.’ Her accent heightens the rhyme in the words and she makes a face that Louis can’t see but it makes Liam chuckle. 

He ducks his head, rubbing at his neck, but Louis can tell he’s not as nervous as he had been a second ago. ‘That’s actually where I first tried it out, that beach, um, the famous one?’

‘Awesome! You should-’ she cuts herself off, glancing down the hall and practically jumps, ‘Oh, babe! Come here, I ran into the Other Liam!’

Louis bites down on his lip not to laugh because he can hear the capitalisation in her voice. He can see Liam’s blush from here. 

‘ _Miley_ ,’ a voice says, fond but slightly long-suffering, and it’s the Other Other Liam. Miley’s Liam. Hemsworth. He’s tall, even taller than Harry, Louis notes right away, which means he’s also taller than Louis’s Liam. But he’s smiling softly at Miley and extending a hand to Liam. ‘Hi, nice to meet you. Liam.’

‘Yeah, you too,’ Liam shakes back automatically, and oh my god, are both Liams insufferably polite? Louis did not think such a thing was possible. ‘Liam, too.’

Liam, _too._ God. 

And they both have a little shuffle and smile at that. Hemsworth wraps one arm around Miley’s shoulder in a way that seems natural, not like he’s warning Liam off or anything, but an automatic move that happens when she’s near. Liam sticks his hands in his jacket pockets and rocks back on his feet. Miley giggles like this is best moment of her night. Louis can’t blame her: their slightly awkward Liams are precious.

Louis decides that it’s time to announce himself and well, he _doesn’t_ jump on Liam. He just bounds over and swings an arm over his Liam’s shoulder just as Miley is saying, ‘I was just about to tell this Liam he should come on your next surf outing-- Oh! Hi!’ She smiles brightly at Louis. Liam sighs as Louis’s weight hits his side; an arm shifts and goes right around Louis’s waist automatically, catching and shifting him in place. Hemsworth blinks and his lips twitch. 

‘Hello! Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to go on soon,’ he says and then remembers himself and grins, hip checking Liam. ‘So Li, who are your new and very pretty friends?’ He smiles at them and pokes Liam’s stomach, ‘Really, he’s so rude at times. I don’t know how we put up with him.’

Miley laughs, low and husky. Hemsworth sort of... blushes? And then so does Liam. 

Oh, this is getting to be too much. 

‘Louis,’ Liam sighs, and Louis tries not to think of how it could _also_ be called long-suffering and a bit fond. He bites down on his grin and straightens up, extending his hand to Miley. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Louis.’

She takes his hand and laughs that husky laugh again when he makes a show of kissing her hand. ‘Miley.’ 

‘Not Cyrus!’ he widens his eyes, and this time he can feel Liam shaking silently at his side, trying not to laugh.

‘The one and only,’ she says, pulling her Liam forward, ‘and my better, taller half. Another Liam.’

‘Hi,’ Hemsworth nods, shaking Louis’s hand as well. Louis can feel the awkward silence that would be creeping in except Miley steamrolls right over it. He likes her already.

‘So, Liam, you-Liam,’ she points to the Liam not attached to her side, making the Liam at Louis’s side blush even more, ‘should come with us on this Liam’s next surf trip, which is...’ she looks up at Hemsworth. He grins down at her, clearly as comfortable and charmed as ever by her inviting a relatively-famous stranger along to the beach, ‘Friday,’ he says, before looking to Liam, ‘and yeah, you should, mate. It’ll be fun.’ 

Maybe that’s how Australians think that everyone makes friends. 

‘Oh, I mean, I’d love to, but I’m not sure about our schedule,’ he looks at Louis, who always knows their schedule and knows that this week is a bit mad but a surf date on Friday shouldn’t hurt too much. However Louis can’t seem to say the words, because suddenly he’s not sure how he feels about Liam going surfing with someone else; it’s not like it’s _their_ thing, but well, they’ve always done it together. Louis shrugs and feels a bit like a twat, but still doesn’t say anything.

But Miley Cyrus is a girl who only only sees solutions, not potential problems. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll have someone call your team and they’ll love the idea so fucking much that they’ll say yes and work it out for us.’

Liam blinks, ‘Are you serious?’

Louis is asking himself a similar question, not out loud, of course, because actually that makes a scary amount of sense. Publicity-wise especially. 

Miley grins, a little evilly, ‘Positive! I can just see the headlines now. And the paparazzi will have a field day. Look at the muscles!’ She points at them. 

Both Liams groan. Louis does too, because he _can_ see those headlines perfectly. The pics might be rather nice, though. The wetsuits were tight. 

‘See, it’ll be perfect! Gotta learn to use your management team to get the stuff you want, boys,’ she leans forward and gives Liam and Louis both kisses on their cheeks with the wisdom of someone who has been doing this since she was a pre-teen and then pats Hemsworth’s stomach. ‘I’ll figure it out, don’t worry! Have a good performance! See you out there!’ 

She turns and even though they’re already walking away, Hemsworth looks over his shoulder. ‘Um, bye, nice to meet you both. Good luck.’

Louis and Liam nod and then Louis remembers, ‘Oh, you were great on SNL, mate!’

Hemsworth grins back, nodding and blushing slightly, and yeah, these Liams are a problem with their earnest faces. Speaking of, he turns to his Liam, who’s still looking a bit shell-shocked. Louis pats his cheek and can’t help softening a little when Liam looks down at him, he does actually look a bit scared. ‘Look likes you’ve got a playdate, love.’

Liam grins, ‘Guess so.’ Louis hates how his heart does twisty things at that smile; it’s not even his favourite Liam smile. 

They walk back to where the rest of the boys are waiting for them and Louis tries to focus on the performance and not that Liam is going to be getting all wet and sweaty with someone else. Especially a fitter, Australian _someone else_ who seems perfectly nice and friendly and probably can do all the sporty things that Liam and Louis generally do together better than Louis. 

He very carefully does not think about that. 

*

Now Louis is fairly confident in his _managing management_ skills but apparently he’s no Miley Cyrus who not only literally had _her people call their people_ but got Liam his surf date-- _outing_. 

On the very Friday she wanted, too, which Louis knows included a web radio interview in the afternoon and a light day in the studio, so it really wouldn’t have been a problem if they had cut out early, but now Liam doesn’t even have to go. He’s exempt from going to the bloody studio. Paul shrugs when Liam blinks at him wide-eyed and Louis lets the other lads protest because he is going to be mature about the whole thing. 

‘Really?’ Liam asks. Again.

Paul shrugs, ‘We can record you on Monday, if you don’t mind getting to the studio a bit earlier than usual.’

And of course Liam won’t. Liam is always ready to go the studio a good hour _and a half_ earlier than the rest of them because Liam wakes up at god awful times to do horrible things like jog. And his hair is simpler. 

Louis is so disgusted that sometimes he forces himself up to join Liam at the gym, just to check he really goes like he says he does. Not that the results are hidden or anything. Even if Louis mostly ends up watching Liam do his circuits or whatever his system is while playing with his playlists and sometimes doing a few rounds of bicep curls. It’s not his fault, though, gyms are bor-ing. Louis prefers actually doing things. Like football. 

Or surfing. 

‘I don’t mind! Early is fine!’ Liam grins, and all the boys groan. Louis manages not to, barely, and slides down in his seat.

‘But what about the rest of us,’ Harry starts, pouting magnificently, ‘what if we want to surf with Thor Junior and Hannah Montana?’

Paul crooks an eyebrow. ‘Do you?’

Harry mumbles something that is almost certainly a ‘no’. Harry, bless his soul, is as graceful in the water as he is on a football pitch, but with extra danger, because _water._ Drowning. Vicious sea life. Pointy rocks. Niall only shrugs, he’s not much for the beach, and Zayn sighs and rolls his eyes. It’s like they don’t even know him. Louis smiles at his bandmates. It’s not that they want to go surfing, he knows, it’s that they don’t want to go into the studio without Liam. 

Louis feels much the same.

It’s never the same if one of them is missing, and, to be honest, it rarely happens unless one of them is ill or there’s some sort of family emergency. 

Liam seems to pick up part of what’s going on and graciously says, ‘I don’t _have_ to go.’

And ugh, _Liam_ , must you? Now Louis practically feels like the Grinch at wanting to keep Liam with them.

Zayn thankfully speaks up first. Louis might be trying to be adult about the entire matter but, still.

‘No, mate, you should go,’ he leans over and wraps an arm around Liam’s neck, pulling him close. ‘Have some fun, grab some sun, be horribly sporty and see if you can get me some _Avengers_ shit.’ Niall and Harry laugh at that and Louis has to grin. That would be wicked. 

Liam chuckles, poking at Zayn’s shoulder. ‘That’s his brother.’

Zayn rolls his eyes. ‘So? Just ask, wouldn’t hurt. Be a mate.’ He’s pulling out his very own pout and Liam groans, poking him again, which means that yes, Liam will be asking for _Avengers_ merchandise for them. 

Louis leaps from his seat and curls up at Liam’s side, who drapes his arm over Lou’s shoulder. ‘Iron Man, please.’

‘Black Widow,’ comes from Harry. ‘Or Nick Fury.’

‘Captain America,’ from Niall. 

‘All of them,’ Zayn says, because Zayn is a greedy bastard. Liam laughs. Louis wraps his arms around Liam’s waist. It’s only one Friday and they’re only in L.A. for one more week. Louis can learn to share. He tightens his grip on Liam and cuddles closer.

* 

He wakes up early to watch Liam get ready for his day out. Liam is already up, of course, and brushing his teeth as Louis settles on his bed, belly down, propping himself up on a pillow. 

‘Want me to order breakfast?’

Liam speaks around his toothbrush, ‘Ha da anananas.’ 

Louis eyes the fruit bowl, banana-free now. ‘Oh, I thought they were decoration.’

He can hear Liam spit and poke his head out the bathroom door, ‘You did not.’ Okay fine, he didn’t. He still smiles and shrugs. Liam smiles back. It’s _not fair at all_ that Liam is going without him. 

Something must show in his face because in the middle of grabbing a shirt - the white t-shirt Louis had been wearing yesterday - he reaches down, running his fingers through Louis’s fringe. 

‘I wish you were coming with me, it’d be more fun.’

Louis sighs, bites at Liam’s fingers and rolls over in the bed. The pillow is still clutched to his chest. ‘Me too, but I’m needed where I am and all that. With you out and about, I’m rounding up the others,’ Louis does consider that he might be laying this on a bit thick but it’s very early, so he’s not got time to craft subtle remarks, ‘Backup Daddy Direction, don’t you know. Anyway, _Liam Squared!_ sounds better than the Liams plus their plus ones.’

Liam laughs, ‘Plus one Miley.’

It would look like a double date, Louis thinks, but does not say. It sounds like something he would say normally so he’s not sure why the words stick in his throat. It feels odd. It’s the first time he’s censored himself around Liam in a long time. He pouts instead.

Liam, who is still looking down at him and has just finished putting on his shirt - seriously, he doesn’t even need the exercise surfing will give him, he’s already as fit as he can get. Liam smiles softly at him and bends down to kiss Louis’s forehead. Louis can’t help but hum happily. Liam gives excellent kisses. Oh, um. 

He hears Liam giggle down at him, which cuts off the road his thought was going down, and Louis opens his eyes - when did they close? - as Liam straightens and grabs his phone as a message pings. That must be Miley or Hemsworth or whoever is picking Liam up.

‘I’ll text you! I’ll be back in time for the web interview!’ he heads out and shouts out his good-bye at the door. ‘Later, Tommo!’

‘Bye!’ Louis shouts back and sighs as the door clicks shut. Louis kicks his feet a little and eyes the clock by the bed. It’s still early. All the other lads won’t be up for at least another hour. Maybe two for Zayn. Louis has a few choices here: wake one of them up so they can sulk with him, eat breakfast by himself and check the weather app on his phone hoping it says _unexpected storms SURFING CANCELLED_ , or cocoon himself in Liam’s bed until one of the other lads wakes up. 

In the end he does a bit of all three and curls himself up around Liam’s pillow and checks his phone for ten minutes before he goes to jump on Niall with the magic words: _breakfast buffet._

*

Liam comes back from surfing a little more tan than he left, practically _glowing,_ and still smelling a little like the sea even under the expensive smell of the hotel soap. They all jump on him and cuddle him and grill him on his day out. Louis is the last to let go and today he’s acutely aware of the fact. None of the others seem to dwell so he doesn’t either. 

Liam happily shares, getting that bright excited look in his eyes that Louis adores. He’s sure the other lads love it as well because there’s nothing cuter than an excited Liam. (Miley would understand.)

‘It was wicked. Liam and Miley are brilliant,’ he says, and goes on talking about how he managed to catch a few waves and not look like a complete tit on the board because, ‘Liam is ridiculously good. He’s been surfing for ages. Miley took loads of pictures.’ Which sends Niall to twitter but she hasn’t posted anything. ‘She took a few with my phone, too.’ And they crowd around Liam again as they flip through the pictures.

They’re all generic enough, good but not great images - it _is_ just a phone camera, Apple - of both Liams on their boards. A few of Liam alone, and a couple of Liam, Liam and Miley squished together grinning at the camera. Nice pictures. Then Zayn’s finger swipes and it’s a picture of both Liams, their wetsuits half off, talking about something or other and the sun is doing rather ridiculous things to their wet bodies. They look like proper sporty mates, who have things in common, including how fit they are. Miley clearly had her priorities straight.

‘Well, now, Liam, _bow chicka bow wow_ ,’ Harry says, causing them all to laugh, but Louis’s mouth feels very dry. He glances over to Liam who is rolling his eyes at Harry, but blushing slightly. 

‘Shut it,’ he says. 

‘What? You look proper fit. If Miley didn’t take the same picture on her phone to save as “threesome goals” I don’t think I want to know her as a person.’

And now Louis’s mouth is as dry as the fucking desert. He also wants to slap his hand over Harry’s mouth so he could stop talking, please. Which is the weirdest thing of all considering he normally encourages Harry’s cheekiness. In fact, he’s surprised this is the first threesome joke of the week. 

Liam seems to feel somewhat the same about Harry and words. ‘Harry!’

Niall laughs. ‘He’s right though, mate. I’m suddenly regretting every time I’ve bunked off going to the gym with you.’

‘That’s Liam--um, Hemsworth Liam,’ Liam says, but he’s blushing and Louis really would like some water now. 

Zayn shakes his head, ‘No, Li, that’s you. And oh god, together you Liams have a twelve pack. I’m disgusted. Get away from me!’ Zayn shoves Liam, who laughs and shoves back, and that presses him against Louis’s side, which normally means that he’s in danger of a nipple pinch, but right now all that Louis is thinking about how fucking good Liam looks in that picture, in all the pictures, this morning and right now. 

Over flailing limbs belonging to Liam and Zayn and Niall, Louis catches Harry’s eyes. Louis shakes his head and, before Harry can push it, Paul is coming into the room telling them they have to get ready for their web interview. 

He really does love Paul.

*

For a brief twenty-four hours Louis thought he was safe from feeling like he was losing Liam to Miley Cyrus and her handsome Australian beau. That it was all a simple one off feeling because Louis knows Liam will always love him (and the lads) best. However, it’s just that Liam and Hemsworth apparently really clicked, serendipitous semi-accidental publicity stunt aside, and when the pictures came out the internet had a small heart attack or, according to Harry and Niall, orgasm. 

Which, fair enough. Two attractive blokes being all wet and sporty together? Yeah, it’s not a surprise. 

The shot where they appear to be comparing biceps - _it was our_ tattoo fonts _, oh god, we look like right prats_ \- is especially popular. Louis gets about ten thousand twitter mentions asking if he’ll be joining _that_ competition with his own Far Away tattoo. Ha. (Did they have to keep the link in? Did they really? Their fans love them. By love, Louis means ‘hate.’)

The headlines range from just about clever to downright terrible - by Louis’s standard of puns, so that’s saying a lot. But aside from all that Hemsworth and Liam actually exchanged numbers and they’ve been texting back and forth so much so that on Sunday, Hemsworth invites Liam golfing and Niall tags along. 

Golf. Honestly.

They apparently have a grand old time and Louis, who’s never been a huge golf aficionado, has never disliked the game more. And Niall loves Hemsworth, too, now. 

Louis doesn’t need this in his life.

Monday comes and Liam has to go early to the studio so, despite the fact that he could be sleeping in, Louis makes himself get up and go with him. It’s nice is all, he’s just keeping Liam company until the others arrive, and maybe he’s a little extra obnoxious and makes funny faces to Liam from the other side of the glass as he sings, but Liam only smiles back at him, sticks out his tongue when he gets a chance, and then cuddles with Louis as they eat breakfast burritos over tea. 

It’s not like they don’t all have their own circles of friends outside the band, of course they do, and some of those people could even be called celebrities, so he doesn’t know _why_ this Liam Hemsworth thing is poking at him so much, but they’ve only really known each other three days and they’ve gone surfing and golfing and they’re already texting. And before the surfing Liam has never ditched Louis and the others for someone else.

‘Lou, you all right?’ Liam asks, splitting the sauces. Liam likes the chilli sauce better, Louis prefers the guacamole, they share the sour cream.

He nods quickly, shuffling closer and tossing his feet in Liam’s lap. ‘Yeah, just still a bit tired.’

Liam smiles softly at him and rubs his thumb on the bone of Louis’s ankle. ‘You didn’t have to come. You could have slept in.’

Louis shrugs, ‘Would have to come in anyway in twenty minutes,’ he winks and pushes sugar packets to Liam for his tea, ‘plus this way I have more Liam-time to myself. People have been hogging you all week. Do I need to show them the band rules?’

‘Don’t they only apply to us?’

Louis shakes his head. ‘Nope, they apply to the world, Liam! The world!’

‘Right, of course,’ Liam deadpans. ‘How could I have thought otherwise?’

‘Sometimes I just don’t know what to do with you, Payner,’ Louis gives a very put upon sigh, which has Liam pouting for about half a second before he’s breaking out into a smile and Louis smiles back. He can’t help it. It’s his favourite Liam smile: the one that only comes out when it’s the two of them. 

* 

They leave L.A.. _HA!_ Louis thinks, maybe more than a little unfairly, but really did Niall _and_ Zayn have to also go out with Miley and the Liams - and no, he will not give into Sugarscape’s incredibly unoriginal name for Liam _and_ Hemsworth. Separate individuals, no combining of names here. All five of them had gone for fro-yo or some other ridiculous American thing on Wednesday while he watched Harry get _another_ tattoo. He is surrounded by incomprehensible people. Louis had managed not to succumb to the lure of the ink, this time, but also that could have been attributed to he got the tweet alert from _Niall_ , of all people, about the fro-yo outing and it might have soured his afternoon enough that Harry mocked him for being jealous.

Which, he hadn’t been. 

Not at all. 

Well. 

They _could_ have called. Louis could learn to like _fro-yo,_ but honestly, that was just such an odd name for a dessert.

But anyway.

They were leaving Los Angeles today and it’s not that he doesn’t find Miley and Hemsworth and their smitteness with Liam nice - _everyone_ should be smitten with Liam; Liam is the best - but they do not follow the rules. Namely, they hog Liam. 

Never has that rule felt so important to Louis. And while, yes, technically the rule is: _one shall not hog any band member [insert name here]_ this past week Miley and Hemsworth have decidedly broken the rule - several times - with Liam. 

He almost had something that felt very much like a heart attack when the teasing about if they had been trying to get Liam into a threesome had come up. Liam had promptly blushed and shut down that theory, and, no Harold, your jokes were not appreciated. 

That reminded Louis that he should talk to Liam about the threesome rule specifically. 

( _Should a threesome happen [with someone outside the band] said band member shall share all dirty details (protection of other threesome members is of course to be respected as per the situation and personal discretion of said band member dictate, but it still falls under the Rule 1: No Lies Within Band purview), and should the question arise between band all band members should answer truthfully about the amount of threesomes had. Should a threesome happen [with any other band member] well, then we’d all know about it, wouldn’t we?_ ) 

And how Louis is against Liam enacting the first part of it. Really, any threesome should include Louis.

Um. Right. 

But, really, Harry and Zayn had too much fun writing the rules out. Clauses. _Footnotes._ Honestly. 

Louis should make sure they burned that paper or at least have it hidden in a safe place, like a vault, under the sea, like the Titans in 300 or something. The rules did get a little-

They’re a very protective band, is all. 

Which is why Louis does not feel bad at all about leaving L.A. even if Liam pouts at his goodbye text to Hemsworth, which Louis reads over his shoulder. 

_talk to u soon_

Not if Louis and a ten and a half hour flight have anything to say about it. Their flight is pretty late too and Louis might smile when Liam drops off against his shoulder around hour four. He runs his fingers through Liam’s hair, nearing sleep himself, when he hears Harry whisper to him across the aisle. 

‘You’re such a possessive little shit, Lou.’

Louis sniffs, ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.’

Niall and Zayn pop up from their seats and roll their eyes in unison with Harry. Bit creepy, that.

‘I think what Haz is trying to say is get that smug smile off your face, you git.’ 

Niall adds, ‘And you’re so lucky Liam didn’t notice you were acting all jealous all week.’

Louis gives them all the finger with the hand not stroking the back of Liam’s neck and shuts his eyes. ‘Fuck you all, and they needed a copy of the rules.’ Who even asked them anyway? 

There’s three different snorts that range from amusement to disbelief but the lads settle back down in their seats and Louis tries to control his smirk. 

Really. 

*

It’s amazing how much better Louis ends up feeling about Liam and Hemsworth’s friendship in the following months as a few thousand miles lie between them and their dates-- _outings_. They mostly text and email since Hemsworth doesn’t even have a twitter, but Miley does and she likes tweeting the band sometimes and embarrassing Harry with a life-size cut out she has of all five-feet-eleven of him. Louis has all of those tweets favourited and screencapped. Miley really is lovely. 

And then she tweets Liam this: 

_@The_Real_Liam_Payne: my almost hubby is going to be on your side of the pond! I expect you to water and feed him!_

Just like _that_ all of the not-all-petty feelings from three months ago bubble up again. And he really doesn’t get it. Hemsworth is a nice bloke. Seems friendly enough. Liam chuckles as he answers Miley back on twitter and then texts before texting Liam himself. 

_miley just told the wrold i’m to feed u_

Hemsworth doesn’t answer back right away, but soon enough Liam gets a message back. Louis might not lean over Liam’s shoulder during rehearsal when he gets the message. Or he might. 

_of course she did. I’ll text you when I’m in town. Cool?_

_brillnt! see you!_

And really it’s nothing. He sends Stan worse texts but Liam is smiling and Louis feels his stomach turn over like he hasn’t eaten in days except they just had pizza an hour ago. He swallows thickly and nudges Liam. 

‘So, Hemsworth is coming?’

Liam snickers and oh, right, Winter Is Coming, they’ve sort of had _Game of Thrones_ on the brain since they started marathoning season two. Liam has mumbled about regretting calling his puppy Loki instead of Grey Wind because he totally looks like a baby direwolf, doesn’t he, Lou? Louis would dare the real life Loki to say no to Liam when he’s holding a puppy and pulling out his own puppy eyes. It’s impossible, basically. Lou, however, did save Loki from the name change. (Tickled Liam until he forgot about it. What? He has skills.)

‘Yeah, should be cool,’ Liam says like he’s not already excited about it all, except Liam can never hide when he’s excited about things and his cheeks are folding higher on his face. ‘Oh! We should take him to the rockwall we went to that time. Maybe even get some bikes again, eh?’

Louis nods and hates how his stomach goes a little cold at that because well, they went there together, just the two of them. 

‘Sound good.’

Liam’s eyebrows do something that makes him look even more puppy dog than normal and he steps into Louis’s space, slipping an arm around his shoulder. ‘You okay, Lou?’

He nods, tucking his face into Liam’s neck, ‘Yeah, just tired.’

It’s a lie and he tries not to think about how he’s breaking Band Rule #1: no lies. Liam’s arm shifts and tightens around his back, holding him up, and Louis sighs.

‘We’ll be done soon and then we’ll go back to mine for a nap and have a FIFA tournament,’ Liam says, running his hand through Louis’s hair, and he hums in agreement. Liam barely plays FIFA, only keeps it in his flat for when Lou comes over, which... is a lot, but they all pretty much live between their four flats (Harry’s doesn’t really count seeing as he likes their flats better than his). It should feel wrong to let Liam worry over him like Louis knows he’s doing but Louis isn’t always a very good person. He’s knows he can be needy and a bit of an attention-seeker and right now he’s got Liam’s whole attention focused on him, getting him through rehearsals with a smile, and spending the evening together.

*

It’s sunny and he’s thinking about a nice outdoor restaurant for lunch when he finds out Liam and Hemsworth have met up for their own lunch date-- um, outing doesn’t really work here, but fuck, Louis is not calling whatever Liam and Hemsworth are on the D word. The man is _engaged._

Liam is the one to inform him. 

_heyyyy. already out!_  
 _w/liam_  
 _uh ohter liam but come join!!_  
 _by notting hill!_

Yes, Louis might have texted Liam to see if he wanted to do lunch, too. He hates eating alone, that’s all.

Louis frowns at the phone. That’s a lot of exclamation marks, and while Liam does like his exclamation marks, normally Louis finds this adorable. Not so much today.

He fiddles with the phone, twisting his lips at _ohter liam_. 

He sighs. 

_Yeah, sure._

*

Lunch goes fine. Louis can be polite and pleasant and really you try and be rude to two of the nicest lads ever. Hemsworth even offers to pay for all of them, like they aren’t all bloody millionaires. In the they decide to split the bill with Hemsworth promising to invite them properly out sometime this weekend. He’s been in the city for about a week now and has been mostly hanging out with his brother who is, direct quote: ‘Such a dad, it’s disgusting. I needed to get out of there or I’d start getting baby fever.’ But he’s smiling the whole time and Liam is rolling his eyes like he’s heard this before and Louis is really really trying not to feel charmed by the whole thing. 

It’s hard. 

He’s mostly succeeding. Possibly not as he well as he’d like.

Then they somehow end up by Bond Street, where the big Disney Store is, because for someone who is all _thanks, but no thanks, mate_ about babies, Hemsworth and Liam start talking about Avengers - which isn’t that a bit like asking your mate for his brother’s car? - and suddenly Hemsworth snickers. 

‘Oh man, I should get Indy a mini Thor costume.’

‘What about a Loki one?’ Liam says. 

Hemsworth rolls his eyes, ‘You know, this is why Chris doesn’t like you. All this Loki support.’

Louis snorts, ‘Please tell me you’re not kidding and if you are I will pay you to lie to me.’ 

‘I’m not kidding.’

‘He’s kidding.’

Louis laughs, ‘You’ve sided with a villain, Payner! Batman would be so disappointed!’ He pokes at Liam’s side, who grabs Louis’s fingers, swinging their joined hands back and forth for a second before letting go. ‘Shut it, I have not sided with a bad guy.’

Louis catches Hemsworth noticing the action and tries not to feel complicated about it. He and the boys do this all the time; he and Liam do this all the time. It’s not a big deal. Everyone that knows them by now tends to ignore it. 

For a second Louis thinks Hemsworth is going to mention something and something in Lou freezes up a bit. 

He ignores it. 

‘It’s okay mate, I think I can talk Chris into coming around. Should probably go with the Thor playsuit though.’

‘Hilarious, really,’ Liam is pouting and punches Hemsworth in the shoulder. Hemsworth doesn’t even budge. He laughs! Not a wince in his eyes, and Louis has been on the receiving end of a playful Liam punch. Louis glares at Hemsworth’s biceps, which are bigger than his. Not on, Hunger Games. 

‘I’m gonna buy her a hammer so she can hit you with it.’

‘Well that’d get you in Chris’s good graces for sure,’ Hemsworth says, smirking. Louis is really, really trying not smile, because fuck this bloke is charming and nice and he can see can see why he and Liam get on so well. They have the same dry sense of humour and are so bloody nice that they’ll spend an afternoon picking out baby items and toys for a kid one of them doesn’t even know and the other clearly dotes on.

‘I’ve got a secret weapon, though,’ Liam says with a grin, slinging an arm around Louis’s shoulder and squeezing. ‘Lou’s a world expert on buying presents for baby girls.’

Liam doesn’t move his hand and Louis is pretty sure he’s seen three different paps behind bushes and a lampost (idiot). He grins up at Liam and leans in a bit as they stop outside the Disney Store, too. ‘Four sisters,’ he says, a bit smugly. It’s justified. He knows things. 

‘Maybe I’ll need some of your knowledge,’ Hemsworth says with a low whistle. ‘Our older brother thinks he's in line for Best Uncle because he's got kids already, but I've prepared a plan for that.’

‘Oh?’ Louis and Liam chorus.

Hemsworth grins, wide and smug, and for a second Louis hopes that his niece doesn’t inherit that smile because if she does Thor is going to be hurting a lot of people when she gets older. ‘I'm going to spoil her. Thank you, _Hunger Games.'_

When Hemsworth offers him a fist bump like this is some subtle masterplan shit, Louis sort of - okay, totally - wants to die. He can’t hate someone who thinks wanting to spoil small children with his millions is the height of using his teen heartthrob powers for evil, he _can’t._ He knows this because he tried it once, also with a Liam, and failed spectacularly, and here they all are to prove it. 

Louis returns the fist bump with a legitimate fist bump when offered, sneaks a look to Liam, who’s looking at him with a soft sort of grin, probably thinking about how they always get that wrong, usually on purpose, and how they’re a complete failure at rock-paper-scissors. (Or awesome winners, but that depends what you mean by ‘winning.’) Louis likes knowing exactly what Liam is thinking, which is a new and exciting thing that’s only really happened in the last year. 

He likes that Liam shoves him bodily through the doors of the Disney Store when he takes too long, and then he’s guiding both Liams downstairs to where the Marvel merchandise is kept. He’s familiar with the layout.

(Maybe he just likes Liam.)

(He doesn’t say that.)

*

Louis was having just a peachy day, just fine, til he gets the text, thumbs the screen, realises- 

Yes, okay, he should have made the distinction clearer in his phone. He should have. This is his own fault a bit. But he just read ‘Liam’ and opened the damn thing, and well. He _was_ having a good day. 

The thing is, though. If he’s going to brunch with the Liams - _fuck_ Sugarscape, fuck them all - again then he’d like to be summoned hence by _his own Liam._

Apparently Liam can’t even be arsed to text him that. 

Louis can picture it, does picture it, all the way there in the cab that he flags down anyway, because he’s going, obviously. He considered texting back how very busy he was, but well, he’s not the only one who knows their schedules and Liam would _know_ and he’s not that much of a dick. Almost, but not quite, and if he wrung his hands, it was to stretch the delicate muscles at his wrists. 

Liam probably just tossed it off like it was nothing: why don’t you text Louis? He’s probably not doing anything now that I hang out with you. My phone’s all the way over there in my back pocket, where it falls out all the time, but I never remember to switch pockets, do I? Louis and Liam might have had that conversation once or twice.

And it’s not like that’s even true. Louis was doing _plenty._ Nothing he couldn’t put down, clearly, but that’s just because he is an excellent friend. People should take note of his example. 

Okay, it probably didn’t go exactly like that, but he’s saved from further imaginings by arriving at the cafe. He tosses a twenty quid note to the driver - _someone_ should have a good day - and has time to emotionally prepare himself by imagining the happy laughter flashback/montage trope he’s about to walk into as he puts his hand on the door. (So what if he was link-jumping on tv tropes before he left. _So what._ )

Louis walks into the cafe and sees Hemsworth at a small booth at the back and waves. He nods to the lad behind the till as he passes, picking up a menu. 

He might be assuming they’ve already ordered without him. He might be assuming they’ve been there for a while.

But when he slides into the booth with a smile, there’s only two menus on the table already, and one Liam opposite. 

He adds his menu to the pile and returns the bro five Hemsworth offers, then quickly looks to the door of the men’s bathrooms. 

‘Yeah, Li says he’s got a thing,’ Hemsworth shrugs, picking up the menu. ‘Might be along later.’ 

Oh.

Louis feels himself frown slightly, then pulls it the fuck together. 

Mature, he thinks stubbornly. It’s not like hearing _their_ nickname for Liam out of Hemsworth’s mouth is new, though Louis totally replaced the cup he dropped the first time Hemsworth said it with apologies to the cafe manager the very next morning. He’s never replaced a cup in a cafe or pub in his life, kind of thought they had that kind of expense factored in, actually. Clearly Liam’s decent streak is infecting him. He did feel like a prince among men for two seconds. 

He’s just reeling a little from being a bit utterly wrong about the passive-aggressive texting is the thing, because it wasn’t passive-aggressive at all, it seems. 

‘So I was thinking of trying out the surfing while I’m here,’ Liam says, grinning, and putting his phone at his right hand. 

‘Nah, man, it’s freezing cold,’ Louis replies, settling and trying to decide on a topping for his pancakes. Would he be weird to get scrambled eggs and syrup? Does he even care if that’s weird? Li would tell him to go for it, so that’s what he does. 

‘That’s cool, though,’ Liam says slowly, waggling his eyebrows. ‘Totally different experience. I’m open to that.’

Oh Christ, what if they do want a threesome? His life is a _joke._ In lieu of access to strong spirits, Louis really does order the damn syrup sweet/savoury combo. Hemsworth makes a face. Good to know there’s only one perfect Liam in his life and it’s not the one sitting in front of him. 

‘If you’re talking threesome, you should really talk to my Liam,’ Louis says, waggling his eyebrows right back. ‘Much less confusing when people start shouting names.’

Hemsworth ducks his head out of the booth and looks around, then gives him a stern look. Louis is almost not-not enjoying himself. Then Liam’s brows furrows and he tilts his head at Louis and licks his lips, like he’s nervous about something. 

‘Wait, are _you_ asking, because I’d have to talk to Miley. We have rules about this.’

Louis chokes on his juice.

Liam smirks. Right, fucking actor.

Well, one for Hemsworth, Louis thinks wryly. Damn it.

‘But about the surfing. You’d go with, right? Think Li wouldn’t like it if we went surfing without you again, even if it’s freezing,’ Liam says, thanking the waitress politely when she brings them their coffee (Liam) and pot of tea for two (but all for Louis). Louis grudgingly allows him the nickname because it must be weird to feel like you’re talking about yourself in the third person all the time, even when you aren’t, really.

‘Sure,’ Louis says, drawing it out, probably sounds a bit shitty but hey, he’s trying to figure out what he just heard. ‘Liam can take care of himself, you know,’ and where did that come from, but it’s probably a band rule or something, that they can’t hear someone implying otherwise about one of them without answering, even when it’s true. 

‘Yeah, sure he can,’ Hemsworth answers, then gives him a considering look. 

And it hits Louis all at once: he’s hung out with Hemsworth almost as much as their Liam. They did end up going back to rockwall once, after all, the three of them, and then to laser tag just last weekend. This should not be weird to him. Hemsworth _should_ be able to text him and say, hey, brunch, my bro is being a space prince again and I’m bored. They’re mates, as much as Hemsworth is mates with Niall or Zayn or Harry. 

Except for Louis being a bit of a dickhead about it without Liam there? Apparently. Shit. 

‘Let me know when, we can make it a road trip,’ Louis says, sitting up, because thinking What Would Either Liam Do has shamed him a little bit. ‘Well, day trip,’ he says, waving a hand, ‘because you know, small country and all that. No need to stock up on water for the car on the way out of London.’

Hemsworth grins and nods. ‘Ace, man, really. We’ll sort a date and the three of us can head up.’ 

‘So have you seen any footie? Liam says you wanted to see a match while you were here. We’ve got contacts there now,’ Louis says, and the pancakes arrive, which is good, because he needs something other than his foot to put in his mouth. And no, no, no, he’s not dwelling on that sentence, he’s _not._

‘Not yet, but Liam sent pictures from the Newcastle thing. Congrats on the contract,’ Hemsworth says, passing him the syrup bottle before he takes any himself. Which is considerate, and really Hemsworth is funny. Damn him.

Louis chuckles, ‘Yeah, lucky me. Couldn’t leave my boys though, you know.’ 

‘He talks about you a lot.’

‘The band?’

‘Nah, man, though yeah, the band, too, but I mean-’ Liam breaks off his sentence mid-way through. 

Louis frowns. ‘Hey, you can’t leave it there. Suspense is killing me.’ And joking aside, it really might be.

Liam holds up his phone, which has an alert from Miley on it (and an older version of Loki as a background pic. They have the same dog now? Louis seriously runs through all the times he’s seen them in the same room. Just to be sure. It’s less than reassuring for many reasons). 

‘I’m not supposed to interfere. But he does talk about you. A lot. Might even be one of the reasons we hang out so much. He gets to talk. About things and - and stuff.’

Louis swallows his pancake and frowns, pointing a fork at Hemsworth. ‘Wow, that’s vague. He didn’t say what he wanted for his birthday, did he? Because that would be helpful intel. I need ideas.’

‘You’ll have about twenty ideas before you even start looking,’ Hemsworth says, and rolls his eyes at him. ‘You took _actual notes_ on your phone when we went shopping. Sort of my point.’ 

Louis might be willfully obtuse at this point. He might. But. Well. It doesn’t hurt to be really clear about some things. ‘Still not there yet, bro. With the point.’

Hemsworth rolls his eyes again and it’s not exactly long-suffering so much as just plain outright suffering. His tone is flat as he rattles off: ‘You know who I talk about a lot? Miley. I think Miley’s great. I think she can take care of herself, too. I make notes, mind you, _mental notes_ , on what to get her for her birthday.’

And Miley _is_ great. There was that time they all did karaoke, all four of them, when she flew out for a few days, then Harry and his hipster posse showed up and Louis ended up crushed up between Miley and Liam-Liam in the booth, because only the band have got the art of fitting into badly-proportioned furniture, and clearly, they were dealing with amateurs. 

Except Louis remembers less about what anyone sang and more about how warm Liam was next to him, and how Louis nearly fell asleep like that after three pints, because they’d been on from six am til one am for a week, and it caught up to him all at once. He very clearly remembers how Liam had gotten the same cab the long way around so it could drop Louis off first, and how Louis had thought very logically that Liam should just stay at his, and how weird it felt when Liam left and his bed and couch were empty, too. 

(But Liam still hates leaving Loki alone overnight, so Louis had understood. He could have stayed at Liam’s, he wouldn’t have minded. Loki needs to learn to share the bed anyway. Liam spoils the pup.)

Which is. 

Fine.

Maybe he sees the point, after all. 

‘So Cornwall or Bournemouth for the waves?’

‘Let _your_ Liam decide? He’s on his way.’ Hemsworth gives him a grin that says the emphasis was utterly deliberate. Brilliant. This one notices things, too. 

*

Thing is, none of them have actually surfed much in the UK. They’re millionaires with occasional access to a Syco private jet. They can usually think of somewhere better - by which Louis means _warmer_ \- than some cold water stretch of beach in Autumn in the UK.

Except, again, Miley.

He loves the girl, he really does, but she shouldn’t believe everything she reads on the Guardian website about the top ten places to surf in the UK. She should also consider a lucrative career in herding around famous types, because before Louis can put up a fight on his _or_ Liam’s behalf, they’re on a plane to the top of bloody Scotland with the promise of a _totally charming cottage_ at the other end. Hemsworth doesn’t even try to put up a fight, clearly used to not winning. 

When Louis googles Thurso out of curiosity, he discovers that if they get tired of surfing (outside. In the cold water.), they can always get a ferry to Orkney, Shetland or Bergen, which is in _bloody Norway._

(Insert Thor joke here, please.)

How is that compatible with surfing outside. How. 

He approves of her dedication, though, because Miley flies in to join them on the flight from London. 

Miley has also decided her Liam should have a proper break, so they’re making a weekend of this nonsense. Really. 

‘Be open to new experiences, boys!’ 

‘That water is grey! It should be blue!’ Hemsworth calls back. 

‘Chicken!’

And that’s directed probably at both Louis and Hemsworth, because Liam and Miley are already jogging ahead, waving to the other surfers gathered on the beach and stretching out over their boards. 

Louis and Hemsworth share a look. Louis thinks they might actually bond over this, which is just a bit fucking terrifying, but Hemsworth is Australian, so this temperature might be beyond his sunshine superpowers like eleven pm is beyond Phoebe and Daisy’s staying awake powers. Louis had better stick by him in case he melts in the cold or something. Wishing you had put up more of a fight now, huh, Thor Junior?

It is also terrifically early. 

Apparently that’s also a thing about surfing he’d forgotten. Of course, Liam and Miley don’t care about that. Louis wants tea. Like, a bucket of it.

Hemsworth looks quietly regretful but clutches his board stoically as he puts away his sunglasses with a sigh. Louis can see a bottle of Aussie-brand sunscreen peeking out of the bag. They won’t be needing that. Louis doesn’t think he’s met a stoic day in his whole life, so he’s much less quiet about his regret. 

‘Fucking freezing,’ he says, hopping from one foot to the other and nodding to the minder of Miley’s who’ll be watching their stuff. ‘I don’t know why my wetsuit has a hood and no feet.’

Hemsworth doesn’t reply beyond, ‘If I didn’t know how awkward pissing in a wetsuit really is, I’d want a lot of coffee right now,’ and chucks him a pair of creepy-looking wetsuit boots from the packs Miley’s people had sent up for them. Of course, they’re the right size. Louis could fucking weep. 

Louis offers him the fist bump in thanks - it’s early, that’s his excuse - and then pulls him towards the water, testing the flex in the weird-ass toe contraptions on his feet as he goes. They find Liam and Miley in a gaggle of surfers deciding on the order they’re all going into the water.

Of course, because they’re wearing heavier suits and creepy boots, their first couple of goes are shit. But they’re all shit, including Aussie demi-gods, so Louis can just about cope. He’s got an improved respect for Hemsworth’s vocabulary after his first fall entirely into the water, too. Liam and Miley laugh through their supportive comments. Louis commiserates, because has he mentioned, it is fucking cold. 

They get used to the water and how the waves break soon enough though. 

Miley is the first to get up, and it’s a good thing he and the Liams (shut up, Sugarscape) are very secure in their respect for women, and popstars who can kick their ass, because that wasn’t humbling at all. Of course, Miley also seems to think that’s more than enough, paddles to them, kisses Hemsworth and makes her way back to the beach with a cheerful, ‘Later, losers!’

Liam and Louis exchange a look as Hemsworth splashes at her back. 

‘Quitter!’

‘Never been to rehab, babe!’

Louis laughs, Liam tries not to, but fails.

Hemsworth turns himself around on the board and shakes his head at Liam and Louis. ‘She always does that. Catches her first wave and then she’s done for the day.’

Louis snorts.

‘Really?’ Liam laughs, turning back and checking on Miley. 

‘Every single time,’ Hemsworth nods, ‘Normally she goes back to tan though I’m not sure how she’s going to do that here.’ He eyes the overcast sky with something reaching contempt. Louis looks at Liam, who’s biting his lip, and they both splash at Hemsworth. He pouts grumpily at them and then splashes back. It turns into an all out splash war for a minute until Hemsworth’s head snaps back to the swells and grins. 

‘Come on, boys, that set looks good.’ He lays down on his board and starts paddling out, Liam just behind him. Louis shakes his head and follows them. They seem to be moving from the nice smaller waves to ones that look as tall as Lou. Fine, Liam. 

Thirty minutes later, Louis is sitting on his board watching as Hemsworth rides the tunnel of a wave and tries to remember all the months that all of Hemsworth’s sporty talents grated on him, because fuck, the guy has found his flow. Liam whistles loudly from where he’s wiped out and somehow still grinning. Louis wants to glare, but fuck he is impressed. And okay, he might now totally understand how Hemsworth’s arms are superhero adjacent because if he’s been surfing for as long as he says he’s been - and the visual proof is pointing to: yes - then his arms deserve every inch of definition they have. Louis might have forgot how much paddling out makes his muscles burn. 

Liam paddles up to Louis and nudges his shoulder. His short hair is spiked messily with the water and there’s a drop of water sliding down his nose. Louis swipes it away. Liam smiles, ‘Wicked, innit?’

Louis can’t help but grin at him. He’s got Lou’s favourite smile on again.

*

So Louis doesn’t know what happened there. One minute they’re playing a perfectly civil board game - board game in a cottage fuck his actual life - and the next, Miley and Hemsworth are heading to their bedroom, because they are such marrieds Louis cannot even deal with them, and he’s turned around, and Liam’s gone. 

The curtain flutters at the patio doors off the living room and he follows it, sees broad shoulders ahead and disappearing back to the beach. 

Louis hovers on the patio door and sticks a toe out, swears viciously under his breath and grabs his trainers, but not his socks, which are on the other side of Miley Cyrus’s idea of a ‘cute cottage’. And his coat. And their hats. And a spare scarf for Liam. And a pair of fingerless gloves and his mobile. He feels like a Scout or something, he’s so prepared.

It hasn’t gotten any warmer, especially not now the sky is so clear of clouds, so any timid hope of heat that had built up through the day has disappeared out of the open roof above their heads. Louis trudges through the long, dry grasses in the unkempt field, ignoring the lights of the small town and harbour all the way over there, and the lighthouse - unmanned, apparently, dashing his childhood dreams of giving it all up to be a lighthouse keeper - he can see every now and again, when the light is at the right angle. 

Liam is as close to the beach as he can get, with the tide in, sitting low in one of the deck chairs Louis and Miley had dragged out there for their second day, the theory being that their Liams could surf and they could drink warm things from flasks and occasionally throw a healthy dash of something from a hip flask into the flasks, too. They’d debated the definitions of hot toddies and Irish coffees, cursed the phone signal that wouldn’t let them check the internet, and passed a flask of hot chocolate with Baileys in between them.

It was a very successful morning, though Louis isn’t sure drinking at lunch or before is for him, except it does make him fall asleep in Liam’s lap by tea time.

‘Oi, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing,’ Louis gestures to the air around them, throwing a beanie and scarf at Liam. Liam throws him one of the blankets they’d abandoned on the deck chairs earlier, which Louis realises would have been ruined if it had rained, but clearly he and Miley were tipsy enough not to notice this. Oops. 

Louis scoots his chair closer to Liam and swings his legs into his lap, then the blanket over them both. Liam makes a noise that’s clearly meant to indicate he doesn’t have to share the blanket or some shit, but still slumps a little in his chair so Louis’s thighs are covering as much of the top of his legs as possible, and curls his hands around Louis’s legs under the blanket. Louis slips a hand under the blanket to find Liam’s hand and cover it. He’s the one wearing the wool gloves, after all. With great wardrobe choices come great responsibility. 

‘It is a bit chilly.’

Liam’s always had a way with understatements and Louis has been saying this for _days._

Okay, almost two days. And getting drunk with Miley and taking names at Monopoly will never not be fun. He even likes both Liams now. Not equally, obviously, but Hemsworth is a decent bloke, really. 

‘Bit chilly, Payner, are you kidding? I’d say it’s Baltic but that’s geographically inaccurate,’ Louis says, leaning his head back. God, he loves a deck chair. ‘Let’s go with Nordic. Does that work?’

‘Where we come from, they’re one and the same,’ Liam says, and looks at him under his lashes, and it takes Louis a minute, it really does, but then he can’t stop giggling into the blanket, and he’s trying. What Liam’s said is possibly offensive to multiple countries - definitely offensive - but Louis has been biting his tongue on Thor jokes all bloody weekend, because he’s polite like that. It’s not his fault they’re much more a Marvel-appreciative band than a Hunger Games-band.

(Partly his fault. He, Liam and Zayn have seen _Avengers_ too many times, and Niall and Harry were outvoted every single time. Harry still really isn’t sure what the books or films are about and when he went to buy one at an airport Waterstone’s Zayn nearly slapped it out of his hand.)

‘Gonna tell me about the stars? Look how they shine for you?’ Louis answers, eventually, and doesn’t move from where his laughing fit has taken him: curled up around Liam’s bicep, which he’s claimed with both hands. Liam doesn’t seem to mind, tipping his head down to sit it on top of Louis’s head, and Louis can feel as well as hear the notes of the Coldplay song when Liam starts humming it. Come to think of it, the beach they’re on reminds him a bit of the video for Yellow, back when Chris Martin was tiny. 

‘And all the things you do,’ Liam mutters against the top of Louis’s head, and Louis hears the click of his jaw when he yawns. 

They sit like that for long enough that Louis loses track, and they’re under so many layers he’s not digging his phone out to check. It’s nice, is all. Sitting around, curled up with Liam, trading bits and pieces of songs they half-remember and harmonies they half-make up, with the grey sea doing their percussion, albeit with a lazy sort of rhythm. It’s dark, the kind of dark city boys don’t see very much, the kind of dark with no streetlights nearby and no road noise for miles. Their security are keeping a polite distance over the hill, no doubt, which would ruin it for Louis, but they are who they are, and it’s a small price to pay for everything else. 

‘Tommo, you having an all right weekend?’

Louis hears the edge of real worry there and turns to look at Liam, eyes even darker because it’s dark out. ‘It’s bloody lovely,’ Louis says, and Liam’s eyes flicker to him, then he grins wide and open because Louis is being sincere, which he realises himself after he’s said it.

‘Good stuff,’ Liam says, tugging him in closer. Close enough that Louis realises Liam’s nose is freezing, because he bumps it against Louis’s temple. 

*

They fall asleep. 

Just for a bit and not really at the same time. 

Feels a bit like a bus nap, waking up to a new view every time, but this time the view is just a different combination of grey sea and sky. 

Once, Liam is looking down at him when he feels his eyes open. The next time, Louis looks up from his own mini-sleep and Liam’s out of it, eyelashes dark on his cheeks and expression smoothed out by sleep. 

When they wake up at the same time, Louis realises abruptly that they’re on a beach, in the cold, and everything about this is a terrible plan. He sits up and stands, just as abruptly, and pulls Liam to his feet by both hands, which wouldn’t work if he didn’t want to be dragged up, but luckily, he’s pliant. 

‘We’re going back to the house,’ Louis says firmly, hand below Liam’s chin. ‘I don’t know why we’re even out here in the freezing cold when there are beds in a heated house right there. I blame you.’ 

Liam flushes and Louis has time to think _what did I say?_ before _he’s_ the one being dragged up the path back to the house by the hand. 

‘The blanket -’ Liam says, and Louis rolls his eyes. 

‘Sod the blanket. The blanket will be fine.’

Liam goes back to pick it up stubbornly, without letting go of Louis’s hand. Then he throws it around Louis’s shoulders - _oh._ \- with a frown and pulls Louis in. Louis braces himself against Liam’s chest, which is well-suited to that, and spreads his fingers before curling his hands lightly around the ends of the wool scarf he brought out for Liam. 

‘I was out here to think, maybe?’

Louis looks up at him and tilts his head. He didn’t expect an answer, even a late one. ‘Think about -’

‘I'm really glad you decided to come along this weekend. I wasn't sure you’d want to... Just us and them.’

And it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about Louis’s (past!) Hemsworth issues.

Liam’s thumb runs over Louis’s bottom lip and yeah, okay, that’s one way to shut him up. He hopes his gulp was not quite as cartoonish as it felt. 

And oh, he didn’t expect this to turn serious. He brought gloves and nearly stopped for a flask of tea but he wasn’t prepared for _serious._ Not that he’s not serious about Liam, he realises, and there’s a stomach lurch if ever he had one. But if Liam’s not- _oh,_ nothing about this is smart. Maybe. Unless.

‘Li, that better be going somewhere?’ 

He’s not sure he meant to say that, it just sort of slipped out while he was trying to put his brain back together, but he’s not taking it back, not now that he’s standing on a deserted beach huddled up with Liam, who’s looking at him like that. Like maybe he’s serious, too, running his thumb across Louis’s mouth again like he didn’t hear him. But with the benefit of more thinking and actual moves, apparently, and Louis has been trying very hard not to think about any of this so much that he’s utterly unprepared. Not very Scout of him, but then again, he was a little shit at the Scouts, too. 

Thing is, Louis is committed now, even if he’s committed to crashing and burning. He twists his hands in Liam’s scarf, and he’d shift on his feet to try to take the edge off the nervous energy in his veins if his feet weren’t bracketed in by Liam’s. Not that he’s actually looking at their feet. Which are closer together than before. He’s either pulled himself closer to Liam, or tugged Liam closer, and he’s really not sure which. Not sure it matters.

Liam lifts his chin up from where he was looking at their feet and brushes his lips across Louis’s. Which is an answer. 

It takes him by surprise, even though it probably shouldn’t: Louis doesn’t know what he was waiting for, really. A line, maybe, proper cheesy and proper-like. But Liam always turns quiet after the pep talk and the group hug but just before the stage. Just for long enough to take a deep breath. 

Liam’s nose is still cold. Louis noses him back and then presses his mouth against Liam’s quickly, quicker again, smiling. He shuffles closer into his space until the blanket could go around more than just Louis, because he doesn’t need to learn to share where Liam’s concerned; he’s always wanted to share stuff with Liam. 

Liam smiles - this could be a new favourite - and puts his hands on the sides of Louis’s face. His hands are freezing, so Louis pulls them down to cover Louis’s sides, which happen to be inside the blanket. He’s considerate like that. 

*

After ten minutes or an hour, really how does time work, of leaching heat off each other and getting acquainted all the things they didn’t know about each other mouths before, and learning that Liam makes his toes curl so much he doesn’t care about the cold sand that’s made its way into his shoes between his sock-less toes, Louis pulls them back towards the cottage. Liam keeps pressing kisses against his jaw and ear and they might trip up the steps a bit, but Liam’s hands are warmer now and steady them. 

Louis opens the door, grinning at Liam, and prepared to lock them in Louis’s room for the rest of the night, when he takes note of the room. 

He’s pretty sure that when they left all they had left in the living room was a discarded Monopoly game and only Hemsworth and Miley in the house. 

And the rest of their band back in London.

But there’s Harry rolling the die and frowning at the board. Zayn is organising the paper money, because he’s always the bank when they play.

He feels Liam’s arm tighten around his waist and they turn to look at each other. They _had_ left the lads in London, hadn’t they? They’ve been a bit distracted lately, but surely not that much.

Hemsworth and Miley walk out of the kitchen, Niall trailing after them with a beer, and look at Liam and Louis. 

‘They just showed up,’ Hemsworth says, sitting the bowl of crisps on the table. 

Louis sighs and hears Liam chuckle, answering dryly: ‘Yeah. They do that.’

‘Miley came back through to get her iPad and they were finishing our game,’ he says, dropping down one of the big armchairs in the room. 

Miley settles in his lap, grinning. ‘I almost screamed.’ 

Harry smiles at her, nearly from next to her knee, and God, he is _such a chancer._ ‘Sorry!’ 

‘No worries, it was a welcome surprise.’ She winks, Harry grins - charm recognises charm - and Hemsworth groans a little. Louis empathises. He pulls Liam into the room with him, by their linked hands, and ruffles at Harry’s curls as Liam curls his free hand over Zayn’s shoulder before pulling Niall in for a quick hug. 

‘Thought we’d put the odds in your favour and distance it from a couple’s weekend.’ 

Hemsworth groans and throws a small green house at Niall, who grins and catches it, handing it to Harry, who pouts when Zayn calls _cheat!_ and claims it back to the general supply.

He and Liam still have not let go of each other’s hands and he’s sure everyone in the room has noticed but isn’t saying anything. Louis isn’t sure how he feels about this. It’s not that he wants them to make a big deal about him and Liam, but a little deal wouldn’t be uncalled for. This is a momentous occasion. Liam _like_ likes him. 

Harry pokes at Liam’s side and Louis bites his lip. He’s thinking that his Hazza is understanding his plight when: ‘So how do you feel about me selling Water Works?’

Louis’s brows wing up and he stares at Harry, betrayed. 

Liam frowns at the board and Harry, thumbing over Louis’s knuckle without looking his way. Louis thought that whole hydration issue was of the past now that they’d put their mouths together. ‘How did you know it was my piece?’

Harry shrugs, ‘You always buy the utilities.’

‘I do not!’ Now Liam looks betrayed. 

‘You do,’ Louis and the boys all chorus, because Liam does. Liam pouts and Louis bumps shoulders with him, leaning into his side. He squeezes Liam’s hand and stays leaning against Liam’s side. 

‘Well, this is adorable and everything,’ Miley says from where she’s leaning against Hemsworth’s shoulder, ‘but I think I’m going back to bed now that I know we’re not being robbed and you two are back--hey, where were you two anyway?’ 

Louis looks up at Liam, who blushes, and Louis grins wide and shameless. Li still has Louis’s scarf around his neck, which is probably the only reason nobody’s mentioned the lovebite Louis made sure to suck onto Liam’s neck, otherwise where they’d been and _what_ they’d been doing would have been too obvious. Well. Maybe. 

Hemsworth coughs, and for an actor he’s a horrible fake cougher, and well, maybe it’s obvious anyway. From Miley’s smirk it’s _very_ obvious. 

Well, whatever. So what if they are? They’re already the best couple in the room, take that, almost marrieds!

Louis rubs his thumb across Liam’s knuckles, ‘Fell asleep on the beach. Don’t try it at home, kids.’

The last bit of his sentence is lost under Miley’s coos and Harry and Niall’s laughter. Zayn seems to have latched onto the word ‘sleep’ and is yawning, stretching his legs. Niall gives him a look and refuses to budge any further along the couch. Zayn pushes his toes into Niall’s thigh. Niall rolls his eyes and lifts Zayn’s feet into his lap. 

‘Yeah, sleep, good idea. Let’s do that one.’ He leans against the arm of the couch and looks up Liam. ‘I’ll bunk off with you, Liam?’ 

‘Oh, um...’ Liam fumbles in his hair. 

Don’t think Louis didn’t see that whispering, Hemsworth; is that how other people do it? Hemsworth, in his armchair with his tiny, grinning fiancé, buries his face into Miley’s neck. Why did Louis ever decide to be friends with him again?

‘No!’ Louis’s fingers might tighten around Liam’s. ‘No need! Um, I can--’

All three of their band members eyes snap to Liam and Louis and, _honestly_ , it’s like dominos falling. Harry catches on first, because he’s Harry, and he always attuned to Louis’s moods. And it’s not like Louis is trying to hide how he’s cuddled up to Liam’s side and how red his mouth his. It’s actually disappointing it’s taken Harry so long to pick up on what’s happened. In all fairness to Hazza, it’s probably taken him so long to catch on because he’s been travelling all day. 

‘Noooooo,’ Harry’s slow drawl really is really made for dramatising moments. And as soon as Harry speaks, his eyes go all wide, and he starts smiling like the bloody romantic he is. Niall and Zayn catch on very quickly.

Zayn’s lips curl sleepily, ‘ _Ohhhh_.’

Niall seems to be muttering something along the lines of _finally_ and it’s bad enough they crashed the weekend but now this. Louis doesn’t need this. This was supposed to be their nice weekend away with Hemsworth, Miley, and oh fuck. Oh. Fuck.

He’s on a couples’ weekend. 

With Liam. 

They’ve only been a couple with for the last ten- now closer to fifteen minutes. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or tell the room to fuck off, goodnight, and drag Liam into either of their rooms, because they’re a couple. They’re together! Why are they dealing with other humans now?

Next to him Liam doesn’t seem to be faring better with their bandmates’ realisation that they didn't just crash one of Louis and Liam’s random holidays to random cities, they crashed a party for their _emotional realisation._ Though that’s a point. They’ve been doing that random holiday thing for sort of a while now. Oops. Liam’s biting his lip and he’s blushing and Louis just wants to kiss him all over again. Except for the other humans, and he’s very fond of them, but -

‘Well, thing is,’ Liam starts, and Louis shushes him, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

He narrows his eyes to at the room. He’s got this. _’Thing is_ , you three are bunking together in my room for being horrible weekend crashers and I’m _tired_ so I’m taking Liam to bed.’ He can feel Liam smile against his palm. Louis’s pulse flutters a little as Liam covers his wrist his hand, thumb stroking the thin of Louis’s wrist, pulling Louis’s hand away from his mouth, before letting go. 

Liam nods to the room. ‘Right, what Louis said. G’night!’

Louis really tries not to bounce on his toes and grin at them like he’s won something, pinching his lips together, but can feel the battle is being lost. He’s already turning and dragging Liam back to Liam’s room, because his is already a tip, deal with it Niall and Harry. It’s not like he needs his own clothes. 

_Oh._ All right then, that’s a thought. 

From the looks of it Zayn already had fallen asleep on the sofa.

‘Wait, when did this happen!’

‘Night, Harry!’

‘Had to be in the last three hours because when we left them in the room they were still being all adorably awkward,’ Louis can hear Detective Miley say. And he would contradict her but... three hours sounds better than seventeen minutes. 

That’s not enough information, apparently. 

‘Wait, this means we need to rewrite the rules!’

‘Oh! What rules?’

‘Night, Niall!’ 

‘You can’t just tell us you’re all together now and bunk off!’ Harry shouts again.

‘Technically we didn’t tell you anything! You guessed! _Assumed!’_ Liam shouts back, opening the door to his room and grinning at Louis. Louis laughs at their friends and presses up to kiss Liam’s smile. Liam pulls him into the room.

‘I am disappointed in you both!’

‘Bonne nuit, Henri!’ 

‘But sort of proud! This is a confusing time! You should be more helpful!’

‘Night, everyone! Cover Zayn up! It’s cold!’

‘Night, you two!’ Hemsworth calls out and of course he’s the only one that’s letting them be. He’s a Liam. These Liams, such a problem in his life. And speaking of - 

Louis closes the door more loudly than he normally would and leans against it, blowing out a breath. Liam’s standing in front of him all smiles and smelling like sea air. His mouth is pinker than normal and Louis bites his lip at the reason for that. 

‘So we’re killing them tomorrow, right?’

Liam reaches forward for the coat Louis still has on and fingers the big black buttons, popping them open one by one. ‘Probably not, but ask me again in the morning when Harry wakes us up.’

In the morning sounds nice. Because they’ll be in the same bed in the morning. Louis laughs, reaching up and pulling Liam down by his scarf. 

‘You’re too nice,’ he mutters, digging his teeth into Liam’s bottom lip, determined to make it all puffy and red again. Liam laughs, his breath warm against Louis’s mouth, and his hands are sliding under Louis’s coat and jumper. Oh, they’re so much warmer now. Louis feels his spine turn into jelly.

‘Not always.’

‘Really?’ Louis tosses Liam’s scarf away as his coat drops and he pulls off his gloves. 

They pull off Liam’s jumper together, and then Liam has him against the wall by the wardrobe. Well, he can definitely get with this programme. ‘Really.’ 

‘Prove it, Payner.’ 

Liam does something absolutely filthy with his tongue, which is licking its way into Louis’s mouth. ‘Happy to, Tommo.’

And God does he. 

*

(Never has he so gladly blamed something on someone else, but, fuck, God bless Miley Cyrus.

Harry wakes them up. He’s a nosy bastard like that. It’s not even _light_ out. They don’t kill him, but they make him and Hemsworth make breakfast. Miley isn’t allowed near cookers and neither is Louis, really, so that works out for everyone.)

 

END.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is wondering ‘why Liam Hemsworth and Miley Cyrus?’ well. It was a joint effort in ridiculousness. Short version: In one of our other fics one of us (*cough*) had Liam H play Liam in an SNL skit [to troll the other shamelessly], cue the other one (*cough cough*) sending: ‘can you imagine the Liams together? Can you imagine them being friends? Can you imagine the internal TURMOIL Louis would have over sharing?’, to which (*cough*): ‘YOU DIDN’T WHY WOULD YOU’ etc. and here we are. LOL, this was gonna be a "short wip to polish off".


End file.
